Love, Justine

April 5th, 2024

Friday

8:18am

Tomorrow is the 19th anniversary of Ethan’s death. That’s all I have to say about that.

10:30am 

Apparently there was a small earthquake here and some of the women felt it.
Hm. 

4:01pm

I talked to Motorcycle. I think painkillers make him really romantic. He said he had a dream while under anesthesia and I was in it. He says he doesn’t remember what the dream was about, but that he remembers that I was in it. He said, “I love you so fucking much. I miss you.”

Sweet, coming from him.

He said that the bleeding from his nose is sporadic now, but that he wasn’t able to sleep very well. 

Today is Commissary day.

The women in the next cube are discussing their children and who is teaching their daughters how to use tampons. I’m sure Tiger has had her period by now. I wonder who teaches her life skills, with no mother and no stepmother. I guess you can Youtube anything now.

God knows she doesn’t want me in her life.

The last thing I said to her was, “I love you very much.”

The last thing she said to me was, “I wish I could say the same.”

I wrote her and called her for the past five years. She never once wrote me or called me back. I wrote her father several letters, too, that all went unanswered.

Daisy is reading a book on strange murders in Pennsylvania. She says she likes to read about people who are crazier than her. She and I are on the schedule for Library on Monday. Tomorrow I have to go to some clinic, probably because of my Hep C antibody test. I don’t know what else it would be for. Back to wheelchair pushing tomorrow. Maybe I’ll try this other book: “Death and Other Penalties,” © 2015.